


leave a message

by potterheading



Series: leave a message universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Established Relationship, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Health Issues, Moving On, New York City, Overdosing, Smoking, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterheading/pseuds/potterheading
Summary: he twirled his wand between his fingers once more before setting it down on the table, beside the blinking cell phone. he didn’t have to look over at it to know that the numbers were already on the screen, simply waiting for him to press the big green button.-in which harry leaves, and draco says goodbye.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: leave a message universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128224
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	leave a message

**Author's Note:**

> hiya!
> 
> thanks for clicking! enjoy :D
> 
> title and lyrics are from the song leave a message by gnash!
> 
> TW: suicide/overdose
> 
> btw: this a repost of a fic that i posted earlier today, i believe there's something wrong with the tagging/ao3 algorithm so I'd like to test it out with the same fic.

draco took a deep drag from his blunt as he leaned back in his chair, watching as the smoke curled into the air and dissipated. his eyes closed slowly, the familiar burn in his chest soothing rather than upsetting him. when the pain faded, he took another pull, this one smaller than the first. this time, he held the smoke in for a bit, releasing it in a steady stream of smoke that made him smile. 

miles below him, the sounds of new york city filled the air - faint honking, sirens, and shouting that seemed to never cease. he stares out at the skyline, admiring the view for the thousandth time. he’s seen it every single day since his move to new york, and still found himself breathless at the sight. 

he reaches for his wine glass, taking a small sip and savoring the taste. when he goes to place the glass back on the table, his fingers brush the smooth curve. of his wand. he glances at it - hesitating for a moment before wrapping his fingers around it and picking it up. 

the warmth that had once flown through him every time he held it was long gone. now, he felt a bit silly, brandishing the practically useless piece of wood. he knew that if he tried - if he reached down far enough into himself that he would probably be able to muster the power to cast a small spell - maybe a _lumos_ , or even a weak _augamenti._ however, draco held no desire to do so. his magic hadn’t been the same since he left london, anyways. it felt like an unwelcome intruder now - unpredictable and unnecessary. 

nowadays, he rarely used his wand, except to maybe apparate to work on days he was running behind. he still carried it with him on most days - purely out of habit rather than necessity. but, for all intents and purposes - draco malfoy was a muggle. he worked at westsider rare and used books inc. - and lived in a top floor luxury apartment at the wimbledon, less than 15 minutes away. he drank starbucks, and took the subway, and avoided times square like the plague. the wizarding world, and all of those in it, were nothing more than a faint memory - a fever dream that he didn’t have to think about anymore. 

he took another drag from his blunt - watching out of the corner of his eye as briseis (more affectionately known as _little bitch)_ slid through the small crack in the glass door and curled up at draco’s feet. 

he twirled his wand between his fingers once more before setting it down on the table, beside the blinking cell phone. he didn’t have to look over at it to know that the numbers were already on the screen, simply waiting for him to press the big green button. 

draco sighed and turned away. 

_**there’s ideas we’ve had, that we no longer know** _

harry potter was bloody fantastic in bed. _it only made sense,_ draco supposed _, that the saviour of the wizarding world would also be such an attentive lover._ with each stroke of his hips, he had brushed draco’s prostate. his lips had kissed gently and consistently at the column of draco’s neck and spine, his fingers had ghosted over every inch of his exposed skin, and the loud moans and groans that had poured from his lips had been downright sinful. 

“are you okay?” harry asked, his fingers stroking at draco’s hip afterward. 

“am i okay?” draco breathed, lazily opening one eye. “i just came three times, potter. i’m bloody fabulous.” 

when draco had finally caught his breath, he had turned to his side to stare over at harry. he was an attractive man - especially in the years since hogwarts, when he had thrown himself into quidditch training and exercise. but here, in the moonlight, he looked downright angelic. there was a subtle spattering of freckles on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. they were nearly the same color of his skin, and could only be truly seen if one stood (or laid) very, very closely. his lips were full, pink, and plump - draco had spent many long moments with his own pressed against them, lapping at harry’s mouth hungrily. 

“what are you thinking about?” harry asked, lying on his back and turning his head to look at draco.

“you,” he said honestly, blushing after the fact. “i mean, you look really good. you’re fit.” 

“so are you,” harry murmured, reaching over and running a finger across draco’s jawline. “you were always pointy but now you’re like… pointy in a hot way.” 

“are you always this eloquent?” draco snorted, kissing harry’s finger as it dragged across his lips. 

“mmm,” harry groaned. he pulled draco towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and hugging him close - his back pressed to harry’s front. “talk to me.” 

“what do you want to talk about?” draco asked. his voice was embarrassingly soft - he chalked it up to post-orgasmic bliss and pushed away any shame. as long as he was here, with harry, there was no need for any humiliation. 

“anything,” harry said lowly, his lips pressed to draco’s neck.

“what are your plans?” draco asked after a moment. “you’re free now, right? no more war… you can do whatever you want now. so what are you going to do?” 

“hmmm,” harry is quiet for a long while, before sitting up a bit, propping himself up with an elbow. “well… i want to do something with kids. i want to help, as much as possible. maybe become a professor at hogwarts. i could probably teach dada. or even open an orphanage... i’ve got more than enough money.” 

“how honorable,” draco says. “you’d be good at that. teaching, i mean. you had that club at hogwarts during our fifth year. i heard pretty good things about it from some of the ravenclaws.” 

“yeah…” harry says softly. “but ‘mione says that before i can do anything i should see a mind healer. i think it’s rubbish. i’m just glad to be out of the war, i’d rather not have to relive it every week.” he snorts, and draco turns in his arms, looking up at him. 

“she’s right you know.” draco says, staring hard at harry. “leading a war so young… it’s not normal. you should find someone to talk to. it’d be good for you.” 

“well, you were in the war, too. probably saw more fucked up things than i did. are you seeing someone?” harry sits up, his face now hard and his voice accusatory. the dreamy bubble that they had just been floating in had now popped. 

“yes, i am.” draco says, sitting up as well. their stance is familiar - a throwback to their hogwarts days. “he’s wonderful, as a matter of fact. he helps me alot with my anxiety attacks and nightmares.” 

“oh,” harry says quietly, looking down - he seems to deflate. “i didn’t know you had nightmares.” 

“i do,” draco says softly. 

“me too,” harry says. he reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, blushing. 

“we can talk more about that later,” draco says quickly. “for now let’s just,” he pulls harry back down into the bed, their lips only a hair’s breadth away. “do this instead…” 

for a moment, neither of them move. then, draco’s hand snakes up to harry’s shoulder and over his neck, burying itself in harry’s scalp. in response, harry’s eyes roll back into his head, a low moan escaping his throat. 

“like that, do you?” draco murmurs, his warm breath ghosting over harry’s lips. 

finally, harry closes the gap, pressing their lips and bodies together. 

it feels right. it feels like kismet… like magnetism… like magic. it feels like their entire lives have culminated into this singular moment: here, in harry’s bed, tangled together and holding each other.

**_there’s places we've been, that we no longer go_ **

“will you tell me where we’re going now?” draco asked, looking around impatiently. 

harry had ordered him out of bed this morning and into the shower at almost seven a.m, his eyes bright and his smile mischievous. when draco had stumbled down the stairs an hour later, still half asleep, he had been greeted with a full breakfast spread - including fresh fruit, waffles, eggs, and pastries. 

he had stuffed himself full, all the while prodding harry for more information, which he had refused to provide. after breakfast, harry had pulled him out of the house, and towards the empty childs play area. 

“so you woke me up at seven in the morning to… swing?” draco had asked, his eye already twitching. “harry, i don’t have time for this.” 

“no!” harry had insisted, pulling a flattened aluminum can out of his pocket. “we’re going on a trip! this is our portkey!” 

they had argued up until the very moment that the air around the can began to swirl, at which point harry wrapped an arm around a squirming draco’s waist and promptly vanished them to god-knows-where. 

and now, they were trekking over a rocky hill, with harry looking determined and draco whining petulantly. 

“we’re almost there.” harry says to him, over his shoulder. “c’mon then!”

as they pass over the crest of the hill, a slight gasp of surprise leaves draco’s lips. there, nestled in a private cove, was a small cottage. he ran down the rest of the way - keeping pace with harry up until the front door. 

up close, the cottage was even more beautiful. it was small and white, with vines growing over the walls and ceiling. harry placed his palm over the door, which creaked open before them. inside, the decor was white and airy - blue and grey furniture, worn by design or through use littered throughout the living room. the kitchen was small, but with the same updated muggle appliances that harry quite liked to use often. 

up the stairs - which were wooden and stained with chipped white paint, there was a loft, equipped with a large bath and bigger bed. the house was filled with windows, letting in natural sunlight and a cool ocean breeze. 

“harry,” draco breathed, his eyes darting around as he took everything in. “it’’s… this is perfect,” 

“it’s ours,” harry said softly, pressing his lips to the back of draco’s head. “this can be our place.” he wrapped his arms around draco and pulled him close, pressing draco’s back to his chest. 

“just for us,” draco whispers, his fingers coming up to lace with harry’s. “yeah,”

for a week, things were perfect. they woke early enough to watch the sunrise and spent their days swimming and lazing around in and around the cottage, surviving on wine, cheese, pastries, and fruits. when they became hungry for a real meal, they apparated to a market harry had discovered, and spent the day picking out cuts of meat and fresh vegetables. 

at night, they curled into the bed and slept, wrapped around each other. draco would tuck himself into harry’s side, his face pressed into harry’s chest and his arm around his waist. throughout the night they would often drift apart but would wake in the morning and find their way back to each other. 

on the last day of their vacation, they woke late in the day. sunlight was already streaming through the windows, casting patterns across their white duvet. they chatted idly for a while - lamenting the idea of returning to london and having to go back to work and normalcy. france had been a dream - and neither was ready to wake. when harry pulled the small box from beneath his pillow, draco blinked at it for a few long moments, wondering silently if his eyes were deceiving him. 

“draco,” harry started, sitting up slowly. “i -“

“yes!” draco interrupted, bursting forward and pulling harry into a kiss. “yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.” 

harry laughed into his mouth, wrapping his arms around draco and pulling him closer. “well, that was easy.“ 

“oh no, i still want to hear everything you were going to say,” draco grins, pressing his forehead to harry’s. “just wanted to make it clear that my answer is yes.” 

**_there’s things we learn, that we don't want to know_ **

at first, draco hadn’t noticed that anything was wrong. 

following the impromptu trip to france, they had returned home and quickly gotten wrapped up in the rush of their everyday lives once again. harry began spending hours volunteering with hermione for various organizations - sending out letters and going door to door and doing whatever he could to help, whether the cause be muggleborn integration or occamy preservation. draco continued working towards his potion mastery - spending hours hunched over textbooks and cauldrons - occasionally setting the room (or himself) on fire. 

they had agreed that a wedding could wait until they were both secure. for now, being engaged and infatuated with each other was more than enough. the future seemed bright - complete with the idea of a family, successful careers, and the happy ending that they both felt they deserved. 

and then, things had changed. 

it was like a flip had switched in harry’s brain. he wasn’t sleeping well anymore - he would often lie in bed beside draco until he thought he had fallen asleep, and then go to sit in the daybed, staring blankly out into the night sky. the dark circles under his eyes were slowly becoming more pronounced, to the point where even his daily glamorous wouldn’t fully cover them. he stopped eating as much - and seemed to consist entirely on slices of toast and water. on a rare night when draco would abandon his study and they would eat together, he would push around the food on his plate for the hour - talking animatedly to distract draco from the fact that he had only taken five bites. 

he stopped attending his weekly therapy sessions - a fact that he neglected to mention to draco. they had been relaxing on the couch together during a rare moment of rest when the mindhealer had called their home. draco had bounced to the phone, eager for any opportunity to practice with the muggle mechanisms. 

the fight afterward had been brutal - their first since harry had proposed. they had both screamed until their voices were hoarse: draco, about the importance of healing, and harry about his desire to “just be left the fuck alone.” that night, harry had slept on the couch - partly out of spite and partly because draco had charmed their bedroom door shut behind him after he had slammed it following an hour of bellowing. 

sometime that week, harry had canceled the rest of his appointments. draco hadn’t asked for details, and harry hadn’t offered any. 

-

as the weeks went on, their haze of engagement bliss continued to dissipate. 

harry, who had reliably always come home by six pm, suddenly began to stumble through the door near midnight - reeking of alcohol and covered in his own sick. 

“harry,” draco had murmured one night, as he sat harry on the toilet seat and pulled off his stained shirt. “what’s going on?” 

“i’ve got alot on my mind, draco” he whispered, before releasing the contents of his stomach into the tub. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before turning back to draco, his eyes watering. when draco opened his arms, harry pressed his face into his stomach, taking quick, shallow breaths. 

they didn’t talk anymore - not when draco washed harry in the tub while harry sat cross-legged. not when draco guided him in brushing his teeth, one hand around his waist the entire time. not when draco pulled a tattered weasley sweater over his head and led him to the bed. not when they fell asleep together, curled around each other, much like their time in the cottage. 

as with every dark cloud, there were always silver linings.

sometimes, draco would wake up and find the old harry beside him - his eyes clear and bright, a stark contrast to the dark and stormy green they always seemed to be lately. he would smile, and laugh, and press kisses to draco’s cheeks, nose, and neck. they would twirl through the house, wrapped around each other and singing loudly in between brief kisses. 

when the darkness would inevitably return, draco would hold on to these memories with a vice-like grip. every time harry would pull away from his touch, or disappear for hours on end, or be caught staring out the window, unseeing -- he would think about the stroke of harry’s thumb against his jaw, or the press of his lips to draco’s temple. 

through it all, draco’s love remained steadfast and unwavering, ready for harry to reach out once more and reconnect with him again. 

-

one night, draco woke to find harry beside him, curled into a tight ball and sobbing silently. his shoulders shook with the force of his grief. 

“harry,” draco said, his voice thick with sleep. “harry, what’s wrong, baby?” 

harry doesn’t respond, but he allows draco to wrap his arms around him and pull him into his chest. he begins to sob loudly, his fingers grappling at draco’s as he trembles in his arms. with each wracking cry, draco’s heart clenches uncomfortably. it was rare and uncomfortable to see harry cry - and he had never cried this hard, for this long. 

“i’m sorry,” he chokes as his sobs dissipate slightly. “i’m sorry, draco. i’ll be better. it won’t be like this anymore.” 

“what do you mean, love?” draco sat up, pulling harry with him. his handsome face was contorted with grief - his eyes were bloodshot red and swollen, along with his lips. his face was wet with various fluids, but draco couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“i’ll change,” harry says shakily. he buries his face in draco’s neck, his warm breath ghosting across draco’s exposed collarbones. “i’ll be different.” 

“baby, you’re perfect,” draco whispers, petting his hair gently. he presses a kiss to harry’s temple and inhales deeply, treasuring his scent. “i just want you to be happy, harry. what can i do to make you happy?” 

harry looks up at him with a strangely confused look and chews lightly at his bottom lip. 

“i just want to make your life easier,” harry says thickly. “i - i’m making things hard for you.” 

“harry,” draco says brokenly, his eyes welling with tears. harry’s mood swings and sudden depression hadn’t been easy to deal with, but draco was more worried about his fiance’s well-being over his own. seeing harry, who was rountinely so strong and cheerful, seemingly crushed was jarring, and it frightened draco more than he cared to admit. 

harry had fallen asleep in draco’s embrace that night, a departure from their normal position. draco had lain awake for long afterward, his mind racing and the love of his life in his arms. 

-

over the next week, things had seemed much like the beginning of their relationship. harry seemed to be smiling constantly, and he could more often than not be found sneaking up behind draco to wrap his arms around him and press a gentle kiss to his neck. “i love you’s” were traded frequently and indiscriminately. the house seemed bright and airy - all lingering darkness had simply vanished after that night with harry, in their bed. 

on friday, they curled together on the couch, half-watching _ferris bueller’s day off._ it was one of harry’s favorite movies, and he had been particularly adamant that they watched it now. draco hadn’t cared very much - the telly fascinated him despite what was on it. 

“have you thought any about possible wedding dates?” draco asked lightly. it had been on his mind over the last few weeks and now seemed like the best time to ask. he knew that they had agreed to wait, but the idea of planning his dream wedding alongside harry excited him, even if it was almost a year early. 

  
  


“what?” harry said, pulling away from draco and sitting up. emotions flickered across his face rapidly and bizarrely. first, he looked confused, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide - then, his eyes welled with tears. he looked away from draco, blinking rapidly before turning back, his face set into a hard line. he stood from the couch, detangling himself from draco and pulling on his shoes.

“harry, what are you doing?” draco asked, baffled. it seemed as if the bubble they had been floating in for the past week was preparing to pop. “what’s wrong?” 

“i’ll be back,” he said gruffly, turning on his heel and marching for the door. draco chased him - slowed by the blanket wrapped around his legs. as harry disappeared through the front door, draco shouted in frustration - grabbing at a plate from the dining table and chucking it at the front door. as it shattered, draco turned away, stomping back into the living room. 

harry comes back later that night, at nearly one in the morning. draco is sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his face set in a grim line. for the last few hours, he had fumed silently, preparing a dressing down for harry the second he crossed the threshold. 

this time, he wasn’t drunk.

“what the fuck, harry!” draco shouted, rising from his seat. “where the hell have you been?” 

“i’m sorry, draco,” he says, his voice wavering. “i’m sorry. i just had to clear my head. i went for a walk.” 

“for three hours?” draco spit. he knew he sounded shrill and aggravated, but couldn’t bring himself to care very much. for weeks, harry had been acting strange and aloof, and draco was nearly at his wit's end. 

“i’m sorry,” he said again. before draco could react, harry reached out and pulled him against his chest, holding tight despite the way draco squirmed. he pressed his lips to draco’s temple, hugging him close until draco finally relaxed into the embrace. “i love you.” 

“i was worried about you,” draco said into harry’s chest. he twisted his hands in his shirt, breathing slowly as he felt his anger begin to leave his body. more than anything, he had been worried - harry hadn’t answered his phone when draco had tried to call him, and he had apparated quickly from their doorstep. “please, don’t scare me like that anymore.” 

harry continued to apologize profusely, rubbing draco’s body and pressing gentle kisses to his temple again and again. 

that night, they make love. 

privately, draco felt that there was no other way to describe the intimacy of the moment. after four years together, they had long fallen out of their early habit of having sex nearly every day. once or twice a week, they would reach for each other. the sex was good and consistent and enjoyable for both parties. 

tonight was different. draco found himself lost in pleasure as harry kneeled over him, driving into him slowly and making his toes curl. draco wrapped his arms around harry’s neck, sobbing with pleasure into his neck as euphoria washed over him again and again. he lost track of how many times he came apart under harry’s ministrations - swimming in the mindless bliss and bonelessness of multiple orgasms. 

when harry finally pulls out of draco, he whimpers at the loss, reaching for harry and whining for him to stay, if only for a moment longer. harry detangled himself from draco, covering him with a blanket and placing a gentle but lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“i love you so much, draco,” he whispers, stroking the line of draco’s jaw. 

“harry,” draco says drowsily, his eyes already slipping shut as sleep pulls him over. “stay,” 

harry murmurs something in response, but draco had already fallen asleep. he dresses quickly and silently and slips from the room with one final glance at draco’s sleeping form. 

later, draco would realize that with every kiss, stroke, and gentle touch, harry had - in his own way - been saying goodbye.

-

the next morning, he woke to an empty bed.

this didn’t strike draco as unusual - harry often woke before him and was out of the house before draco could throw the covers off of himself. he continued on as normal, making breakfast for himself and eating it at their small dining room table, his eyes scanning the prophet as he absently wondered where harry had gotten to. 

as he washes his dishes and retreats into his study, his mind replays scenes from the night before. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything like it. after months of harry only being half-there, he had truly seemed to be in the moment with draco last night. they had kissed like they were dying, and that the only antidote could be found behind the lips of the other. 

draco spends the next few hours curled on the sofa in his study, reading through potions manuals and familiarizing himself with the flora and fauna of the andalusian region. when his eyes begin to glaze over, he wanders into their back garden. there are flowers all around the perimeter of the yard - ranging from bushes of azalea to hyacinths, and a large amount of space. they had entertained the idea of adopting a puppy or a crup, but had agreed to wait until after they had been married. 

for a while, draco sat on the ground in the garden, staring up at the sky. the sun had begun to set, and it was steadily growing colder, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. as the sky melted into beautiful shades of blue and pink, draco stared up, drinking in the sight and committing it to memory. 

as the sun set completely and darkness spread, draco stumbled back into the house, resolving to bring harry outside with him tomorrow - he had always loved watching the sunset almost as much as draco did. 

-

he was in the kitchen preparing dinner when the phone rang. he rushes over to it, drying his hands and fumbling with the mobile for a moment before putting it to his ear. 

“hello?” draco felt a bit proud of himself for figuring out the phone so quickly. he usually fumbled for at least a minute before being able to accept the call. 

“draco?” hermione says, her voice ragged. 

“mione, what’s going on?” she rarely called them, and instead preferred to pop through the floo when she needed something. 

“can you come to st. mungo’s?” she asked breathily. immediately, draco’s heart began to race and his throat grew tight. “it’s harry.” 

“is he okay?” draco asked, flicking off the stove. he could feel hysteria rising in his chest, but fought steadily to maintain his composure. “what’s happened?” 

“draco, they _found_ him,” hermione sobbed. “his body... he - i… he’s gone. harry’s gone.” 

the cellphone slipped from his fingers - crashing to the ground and shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. 

-

he had been found in the forbidden forest, curled beneath a tree - not too far from the clearing where voldemort had killed him the first time. later, draco had wondered if he had done this on purpose - or if he had just wandered through the forest until he felt he couldn’t possibly walk any further. the centaurs had recognized him and alerted the hogwarts staff, who had, in turn, called st. mungo’s and the aurors. he was declared dead on arrival. 

_a lethal mixture of muggle painkillers and potions,_ was the official diagnosis from the pathologist. they had rendered him unconscious before they had stopped his heart, apparently. so there hadn’t been any pain. he had been peaceful and had looked like a sleeping boy, according to the centaurs. 

the tortured soul of the boy who lived would be free. 

finally at peace, after a lifetime of pain.

at least, that’s what the daily prophet had said. 

**_and there are people we love, that we have to let go_ **

in the distance, the sun begins to set, and the sky melts into a beautiful blend or orange and yellow. the last rays of sunlight filter through the skyscrapers, casting long shaddows across the floor of the balcony. briseis stretches out in one of these small patches, her tail flicking lazily. 

taking a deep breath and summoning all of the courage he can muster, draco reaches over and grabs the cell phone. he doesn’t look as his finger pushes the call button, and immediately pushes the mobile to his ear. the ring tone sounds for only one second before the call immediately transfers to voicemail. 

draco already knows it verbatim - he had been there when it was originally recorded, and had listened to it almost a thousand times since then. he listens anyways, savouring the sound of harry’s voice. 

“ _hello there_ ,” 

draco gasps slightly, the same way he always does. nothing can ever prepare him to hear harry’s voice again - rich and full of life. each time, it feels as if he’s been drenched with a bucket of freezing water. 

“ _this is er - harry potter_.” 

draco smiles and takes a shaky breath - he had always teased harry for his less-than-extensive vocabulary, but had found it endearing, privately. 

“ _sorry i can’t come to the phone right now. leave a message after the beep, and i’ll get right back to you_!” 

and then, like clockwork - the sound of harry’s phone falling to the floor, and his faint, “ _ah, fuck_ ,” before the line cuts and the beep sounds. 

“you don’t have to worry about getting back to me, because i’m going to shut this line off.” draco starts, his voice already thick with emotion. he takes a shaky breath and pauses for a moment, blinking back the tears that are already welling in his eyes. “i’ve tried to distance myself from everything, so that i can come to terms with it and all that. 3,459 miles of distance to be exact.

“hah, did you hear that? i’m even using customary units now. i’m practically a native new yorker! anyways, i just wanted to let you know that i’ve been going to therapy lately and i’ve been learning alot. they’ve been teaching me about coping mechanisms, and moving on, and things of that nature. so i just wanted to let you know that… i forgive you. 

“for leaving, i mean. i can’t say that i understand why - i wish you would’ve felt like you could’ve talked to me. or anyone, really. but it’s okay. and i also wanted to say that i’m sorry. for so long, i - i felt like i failed you. you were hurting, and i didn’t do anything to help you… if there was something i could’ve done… i would’ve done it harry, i promise. i would’ve done anything just to have you here with me again. i’m sorry, baby. i love you. i really, really love you. so much. but i have to let you go now, because it’s killing me. but i think that i’ll be okay. i’m finally starting to feel like myself again. it was a bit touch and go last year. especially for the first few months… but you know how it is. or, maybe you don’t. 

a singular tear fell from draco’s eye and he reached up to wipe it away. with a sniff, he continued, his voice significantly weaker.

“on a lighter note; like i said, i’ve moved to new york. been here for a little under a year now. i work in a bookstore, and i’ve been making friends. slowly, but i am. i’ve met a few wizards, but i haven’t really started doing magic again. i haven’t been back to london, either, since - yeah. but i try to talk to everyone at least once a month. ron and hermione are doing okay. they miss you, terribly. they don’t say it, but i can tell. i suppose they’d say the same about me. but, as i was saying, ‘mione is pregnant! she should be due sometime next august. they’re ecstatic. i think ron was made to be a dad. 

“but uh - right now i’m sitting on my balcony. briseis is out here with me. it’s a little chilly, but i don’t mind. i’m having a glass of wine and smoking a bit. it’s quite beautiful here. i think you would’ve loved new york. there’s so many people here - it never really slows down. i know how much you hated having all of the attention on you. we could’ve just disappeared here. it would’ve been perfect for you. for us. 

“i wanted to tell you - the sun is setting now and it looks like art. the night that you, er, left. there was a sunset that i wanted to show you. and i never did get the chance… but everytime i look at a sunset i think of you. or a seashell. or anyone with glasses. i guess what i’m trying to say is that i’m always thinking of you. 

tears flow freely from draco’s eyes as he speaks, his voice nearly a whisper at this point. he holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he takes a shaky drag from his joint. he doesn’t want to end their chapter this way - sobbing pathetically alone on his balcony, but the tears refuse to cease. 

“i wish you were here, harry. i miss you, and i wish things could be different. but - i need you to know that i love you and i miss you. 

draco takes a deep breath, his hands trembling. 

“this is getting a bit long now... suppose i should wrap it up. so, i guess this is goodbye. for now. i’ll see you on the otherside, yeah? save a seat for me, love. bye, now.” 

he ends the call with a click - sending the message flying off to harry’s phone. It’s somewhere in draco’s closet - buried in a bag and purposely tucked away. tomorrow, he’ll call the service provider and shut the line off - severing one of his last connections to harry.

for now, he sets the phone aside and grabs his wine glass, taking a deep swig. his fingers tremble as he brings the joint to his lips again. a loud sob bursts from his lips, and he doesn’t bother trying to stop himself. 

as the smattering of orange and yellow fades to a darker shade, and then eventually black, draco stares blankly ahead. he smokes until the joint fizzles out, and then throws it into the ashtray. the slight buzz from the marijuana dulls the pain a bit, but not enough to quell his tears. draco leans forward in his seat, burying his face in his hands. 

for a few moments, he allows himself to sob loudly, his chest heaving and his entire body shaking like a lead with the force of his grief. and then, he rights himself - drying his cheeks with the back of his hand and laughing at himself. if harry were here he’d poke fun at him while simultanously wrapping his arms around draco to comfort him. 

with perfect timing, briseis jumps into his lap, nuzzling her soft head into his chest. if he looks down, he knows he’ll be met with striking green eyes - the very reason he had adopted her only three days after he had landed in new york. even if it was impossible - looking at briseis provided him with a semblance of comfort... a gentle reminder that there were pieces of harry scattered all throughout the city - even though it was 3,459 miles from home, and harry had never been. 

the air has become chillier, and draco suddenly wants nothing more than to curl beneath his sheets and sleep, with the familiar weight of briseis at his feet. he stands, draining the last of his glass and pocketing his cell phone and wand. as he walks, briseis winds between his legs, her soft fur tickling his ankles. she slips through the glass door first, and draco turns to close it behind him - shutting the door on the city, the noise, and his pain, if only temporarily. 

that night, in the bed that he had never gotten the opportunity to share, draco dreams of ocean breeze and open arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> heyo!
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!!!!
> 
> i was listening to my playlist as i was posting my last fic and this popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone until i sat down and wrote it, so here we go. 
> 
> love me some angst :(, ugh i felt so bad for draco during this. he deserves better. 
> 
> anyways; let me know what u think! 
> 
> s/n: so i actually have a lot of ideas for an additional chapter that explores harry's death and the events leading up to it/after it. i was originally going to put them in this story but that part was already sooo long. would anyone be interested in a closer look at that? bc its something i'd be willing to write :D
> 
> all kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc are heavily appreciated!


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